17. Teddy

I f I thought this season would run smoothly…

We were, unfortunately, totally dependent on the weather playing ball. I now had two large vehicles stuck on the main road, and the council was hoping to clear the lane later. In the meantime, all I could do was gear up the college tractors to attempt to clear enough road to get things moving.

The days went on, and where my life had once been slow and mundane, November seemed to have flown past. I had no idea how. I was tired, stressed, overworked and really upset because Flora was being weird. Ned was everywhere. Everything seemed to have shifted in a way I hadn't been able to take control of, and my head was never in the right place. Whenever I thought I had my life on track, something new seemed to hit me, and I couldn't deal with it. I didn't have the spoons, knives or forks to stop long enough to get the chaos around me into any kind of order.

There was a sudden crash in the living room. I stood up like a fool to see a cat scurry across the floor and a broken coffee cup by the bed.

Constant chaos. Everywhere.

Also, the Japanese ambassador was conveniently sitting at my kitchen table, which I hadn't counted on either in this weather, but apparently, his helicopter was hardcore. He was all geared up for some fancy snow expedition, a cup of coffee in hand, as his assistant stood politely behind him. The assistant had a cup of coffee too. I wasn't a heathen.

At least I'd cleared up the kitchen and rushed through a batch of cinnamon rolls that hadn't turned out too bad. My coffee was good and strong, and my paperwork was all together.

A tractor rumbled past the window. Not quite the idyllic setting we were trying to portray to the esteemed ambassador, but whatever. This wasn't his first rodeo, nor mine.

"I'm sorry about your father," Mr Ambassador said gently. "He was a good man. I remember my predecessor spoke highly of him too."

I nodded because words? Yeah. Not my forte.

"This will be my last visit since my two years here in Sweden are coming to an end."

"I'm sad to hear that," I managed to get out.

"Next year, it will be someone else. I will miss out. Especially on these buns. There is nothing like Swedish baking."

"Will you return to Japan?"

I don't know why I asked, but I suppose this was me making conversation since we both had to keep this farcical game up. Get the photos done. Tree felled. Game over.

"I am applying for posts," he said. "But if I can be honest with you, Mr Backman, if I had a choice, I think I would have stayed. This life you have here is very attractive. A different kind of freedom than a diplomatic post entails. Maybe one day, I will give up my career and start a small farming retreat. A few animals. Trees. Fresh air."

"And all this snow."

"We get snow in Japan as well." He smiled. "I grew up in the mountains. Learned to ski before I could walk."

"Impressive!"

"You and I are not as different as you think. We both love our home. We both enjoy the fresh air, and you have no idea how happy I am to see all the snow today. Even happier than my press secretary here, who will be delighted not to have to Photoshop the pictures to make sure we provide the required mood for this year's Embassy Christmas card."

"I always enjoy your cards," I said. Not that I had them anymore. Another small pang of guilt in my chest.

"And I always enjoy my visits." He smiled and nodded at me as I wordlessly offered him a refill of coffee.

"Your father would be proud."

"I try," I said quietly. "I'm trying to run this place, trying to figure out how my dad did this on his own for so many years and didn't completely lose his mind. It's not easy, living in the shadow of something that's no longer here." Unusually candid for me, but the ambassador had lost a bit of his formal stiffness sitting on that chair with crumbs on his jacket, reaching for another bun like he lived here.

"We all have to live in the shadow of the past," he replied in between mouthfuls. "But maybe I can comfort you with the wisdom of my grandfather. He always told me not to worry too much about the future because it was harder to worry about it than actually face it. We never know what the future brings. We still have to live through it. There is no choice there. Just live. Enjoy what you have. Like these cinnamon rolls and the snowflakes outside."

"Wise words."

"Come on." He grinned. "Let's get this over and done with."

"Can I ask you something?" I blurted out in panic. I couldn't explain why, but there were so many things darting around in my head, and I had people around me twenty-four hours a day, yet there wasn't a single person I could talk to about this.

And here he was. A complete stranger from the other side of the world. A client. Someone so far out of my league, education-wise, who had seen the world a million times over, compared to my small, pathetic existence within this insignificant farm. Yet I wanted to speak to him because, in my head, he was someone who wasn't part of this circus. Maybe he could give me some clarity, a view from the outside, but what did I know? I was just the idiot who baked buns and sat here like a big lump of nothing, hoping he would give me all the solutions. Answers when I didn't even understand the questions myself.

"You can ask me anything. I may not have any remedies, but I have lived a little. I might be able to at least offer some advice."

This was why this dude was an ambassador and why I was a bloody farm kid, because he sat there with his elbows on his knees, mimicking the way I was sitting. So I ran my mouth. Let the words spill out.

"There's a girl I grew up with, and I have spent my whole life with her. She loves me, always tells me so, and I love her right back, just not that way. If I had any sense, I would have played along with it and made us a life, but I can't see a way of doing that because I don't love her that way, and I feel like I'm destroying that comfortable friendship we have."

Fuck. That sounded insane.

"Would this be a business arrangement or something that would benefit the two of you in any way?"

He was serious.

"It would kill us both." That was the first proper truth to come out of my mouth in a long time.

"Then what's the issue?"

I didn't know that myself. Well. I did. It was that bloody bed in the living room, with its fancy blankets and the strange man who slept in it every night. Because he turned up, made me food, kissed me, held me through the night, and I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do with it all.

"I don't want to ever hurt her. I want her to be happy, but I can't be the one to give her a future, and it wasn't until now, when I've met someone, that I've fully acknowledged that. I met someone from the past, and he's inserting himself back in my life, and I'm terrified because it's such a big change for everyone, and I'm hurting people. I'm happy, but at the same time, I'm so scared because if I mess this up, I don't think there's any coming back afterwards. But him moving in here? It's completely destroying Flora, and I feel like I'm the idiot in the middle, sitting here drinking coffee and eating buns when my whole life is imploding around me."

Yes. Unhinged. Me.

"So this is a male friend, and he's moving in with you as your female friend's heart is breaking because she thought she was the one, and now there is a rival man in the picture?"

"That makes it sound like something dirty, underhand. It's not like that. It's like all these unspoken promises are suddenly out in the open, and I can't make anything slow down long enough to make sense of them."

I needed to stop talking before the ambassador to the land of the rising sun had a heart attack and cancelled all future contact with Backman's Forestry Ltd.

"And did you make any promises to this woman? Did you mislead her in your intentions?"

"I hope not. No. No, not at all. I don't know. It's not the kind of thing we talk about. There are never the right words to say out loud."

"Did you know? Before? That you liked this man?"

"He's the only man I've ever liked…like that. I mean, there have been other brief encounters, but nobody else that I actually wanted to stay."

"Hmm." He scratched his skin, smoothed down his fancy ski trousers. "I've led negotiations between military generals and moderated world summit meetings. Met some very influential people. Yet I still have no expertise in matters of the heart. The concept of love always confuses me, which is probably why I make an excellent ambassador. I'm reliable, conveniently unattached, no small children to tow around the world, and my schedule can be adjusted at the drop of a hat."

He made me smile. I had always expected the Japanese ambassadors to be incredibly formal. Yet this guy and the guy before him were both decent, easy-going blokes, which was probably why they were so good at their jobs—despite being completely rubbish at choosing trees and dressing like they were visiting some top ski resort. Not that I'd ever visited a ski resort. Well, apart from in year nine when we'd taken a bus to a local one and Anna Blomqvist had broken her arm.

The memory made me smirk .

"I apologise for not being of more assistance here," he said.

I shrugged. "Love always seemed like it was for other people. Then it hit me, and now I don't know if I should trust the way I feel. I want him here. All the time. I want him to stay and move in and live with me, and I want to be happy. I don't care what people think, but if I do that and I lose my friendship with Flora, then what have I got left? Nothing."

Desperate. That was the only way I could describe my voice, and Mr Ambassador looked slightly desperate too.

"The one thing I know about love is that it comes in many forms, and perhaps there is nothing to say you can't have the man you love and keep your friend close to your heart."

"She currently wants to rip my eyeballs out of my head and fry them up for dinner."

"Sounds like she's a little bit upset."

"Yeah."

"I think your eyeballs are safe for now, but I do recommend perhaps…flowers. I hear flowers are very attractive gifts for women."

"Flora is a sheep farmer."

"Oh."

"I think I would have to level up to even get her to speak to me again."

"That bad?"

"Well, she kind of walked in on me in bed with him one morning since the bed is now in the living room and my central heating isn't working properly. It's not that she didn't know about me and Ned, but I think it was the shock of it and kind of rubbing it in her face."

"A bad move." He nodded, which made us both laugh.

"And ever since? She's weird. Doesn't come in for her morning coffee anymore. Avoids me. When she speaks to me, it's just words."

"I see." Mr Ambassador rubbed his chin.

"What level grovelling do you suggest?" I was trying to rein the madness in .

"In military situations, I would suggest bringing in the big guns. Major grovelling operation. I agree flowers might not cut it, but perhaps a friendly sit down over dinner to discuss the matter at hand? A nice bottle of red wine. I always think a Merlot makes a good opener before moving on to a heavier Bordeaux."

"Okay." I smiled.

"Beef. Roasted just right. A side of sautéed spinach."

"You know your stuff."

"Dessert. That's the essential bit. Nothing too heavy. Something delicate and sweet. Melts the coldest of hearts. Make it about peace. Moving forward. Finding a way to talk about the difficult parts with understanding. Make it a learning experience. Let all parties express their feelings. Listen. Repeat back. Acknowledge hurt and offer a solution."

"Sounds good." I nodded. "Just what's the solution?"

"Is this man a good man?"

"Yeah. He's good."

"Will he make this worth it? Whatever the outcome?"

"I don't think I can back away now. I'm already in too deep. I don't want it to end."

"Then you need to look after this Flora and make her see how unhappy her unhappiness makes you and how happy she could be if you just worked at being the unit you always have been. You're soldiers in the same troop, and I think the romance needs to be separate from that."

He frowned like he was trying to find the right words in a foreign language he'd pretty much mastered. I was impressed because it made me feel less inept.

"Thank you," I offered up weakly. "You're right. We're a team, and now there's a wonky third wheel that I don't know how to put right."

"You're very welcome. This isn't the end of the world. It's simply adjusting to new circumstances. I remember moving into my embassy accommodation in Brazil a few years back. The air was so humid that the floor in my office was wet. I slipped and broke my hip right in front of my new team of staff. I spent my first week in a hospital bed and already wanted to give up. I wanted to go back home, having made a fool of myself on my very first day, but then it turned out absolutely fine. The most brilliant posting. I had a great press secretary back then, and it wasn't like I could leave him behind."

It didn't hit me until hours later when I waved him off in his wanky helicopter what those words had meant, but I saw it now. His press secretary was a handsome fellow. A little older, calm, wise, and he looked at the ambassador with a look I recognised because I saw it every day when Ned looked at me, and my stomach hurt as I tried to gather myself up and get my workload back under control.

Work.

I kept smiling.

Love. Friendship. Life.

I was still smiling hours later when Flora arrived to lock up her sheep, stomping around and shouting down by the pen entrance, the temperature having dropped even further as the sun disappeared from view. Now all we had was the hard crunch of forming ice under our steps and a wind that bit right through my hood.

"Ted," she called from behind me, trying to run through the snowdrifts.

"Hey."

"Took some of your oil for the pen hinges. The ones on the north side need replacing. The latches are coming loose."

"Okay."

"So," she said, like she knew exactly how awkward this was.

"This is stupid." There, I said it. Out loud.

"It's just difficult." She wouldn't even look at me.

"It doesn't have to be. Nothing has changed apart from that there's this weird American camping out in my house. He's pretty harmless apart from that he has no idea how to cook things without using the microwave. I fear for Violet's health."

I meant that as a joke. Well. I tried to lighten things up, but she wasn't biting.

"I asked the Japanese ambassador for advice on how to grovel to you. How to make you talk to me again. He suggested I take you out for a fancy dinner of steak and red wine. "

"I'm vegetarian, and I only drink white," she snorted at me. Like I really was stupid.

So I retreated to safer ground.

"How are your mum and dad?"

"Awful. Mum keeps forgetting how to get dressed. Dad fell out of bed again. Neither of them know how to turn on the TV anymore and sit there in the dark all day moaning about the electricity being out. I've had to get the carers to come in midday now because I can't just keep babysitting them. I have a farm to run."

"I know."

"And I need to bitch. I need to talk to you. I can't do this on my own. I'm going crazy."

"Hey," I said, and then she slammed into me. Gave me an almighty hug as I awkwardly folded my arms around her.

"Sorry," she whispered into my neck, her words almost frozen as the wind tore through us.

"Nothing to be sorry about," I stuttered out. "It's a lot, you know. To get used to. I just don't want to lose you. Ever."

"I know." She reached up and placed a small kiss on my cheek. "But whatever happens, you'll always be my Teddy. I just have to figure out how to deal with that big stupid American bloke watching me from every angle. He's a bit of a creep."

That last bit made me laugh, as Ned was standing by the house, watching us.

"Yeah. A bit of a creep, that one. Keeps turning up and sleeping in my bed. No idea what to do with him."

"Want me to have a word? I have people I can call if you need him removed off your property?"

She was smiling. So was I.

"Nah. I'm good. Now get on the road before we get snowed in again."

"Yes, boss." She grinned. Then she walked away, and I stood there wondering if I had actually finally got my head around this or if I was still a massive fool.